Page 24 of Justice for Puck Bunnies

“Where is our intrepid captain?” I ask.

“Held back for some meeting,” Vin informs me. “Probably about little league’s poor sportsmanship that got him the shiner.”

“I was a great sportsman. Didn’t even fight back. The dick got in his sucker punch before I started dodging.”

“The goal is to make him jealous enough he comes crawling back and straightens up for the team. Try not to get yourself unalived while you’re at it.”

“Yes, my sexy kitchen bunny.”

I release an aggrieved sigh but then ignore him to finish making their dinner. I cook off the boys’ hefty cuts of meat, but leave Trick’s on the counter to make fresh when he gets home.

The steaks are resting, the rice is in the warming drawer, and the veggies have another 10 minutes in the oven. I’m gently simmering down the sauce in the pan I used to make the steaks when the boys emerge from the living room.

“It smells amazing, Izzy,” Vin says with a smile and resumes his place on the bar stool on the other side of the counter.

Mason, of course, will not give me peace. He swoops into the main kitchen area and circles me in his arms from behind. The salacious fool slides his hand into the apron, resting it low on my belly to tease me. He leans in to whisper in my ear.

“I like you caring for me, bunny. I’m pretty sure I’ve had this dream a time or twelve. Friends and steaks made by the most beautiful woman I’ve ever met. It’s a good thing you aren’t an omega or I’d be unable to control my bite.”

I swallow hard but keep myself in check.

Except that Mason’s hand sinks lower and cups my core.

“Mason,” I stutter, reproach in my tone.

“What?”

“Actually, turn this way,” Vin interrupts. “I have an idea.”

Chapter Five

Mason swings me around until his hand is trapped between the kitchen counter and my hips.

“From here, it looks like you’re actually touching her, Mase,” Vin says. “We could really piss him off. Maybe a pic or two in an accidental group chat? You wouldn’t have to touch her. What you’re doing right now almost looks real.”

“That’s an excellent idea,” Mason says. His long middle finger spears into the space between my thighs. If it wasn’t for the sweats...

“I don’t know,” I splutter.

“You didn’t see him the rest of the practice, Izzy. He was irate, sure, but he pushed us harder than I’ve ever seen. He even gave us a mini-speech while everyone was flagging about how we have to meet expectations.”

“You aren’t in practice right now,” I note.

“Ah, but our first game is only a few weeks away. And, let’s not forget, it’s gonna send him into a jealous rage.”

True. And fuck that guy. If he can shank a skank, then I can get fingered by a fuckboy.

“Make it a video,” I word-vomit before I can think better of it.

Mason chuckles in my ear. It’s low and dark, and I’m decently sure Satan himself has come to possess him and do Very Bad Things to me.

The alpha in question spins me in circles and uses the movement to hide how he slots his hand under the band of my sweats.

Should I let Mason finger me for the camera without Vin realizing that’s what’s happening, all so we can taunt my future alpha? No.

But, again, fuck that guy.

I deserve my revenge. The image of Livvy’s shitty leggings kneeling on the tile will be emblazoned into my brain for the rest of my life.

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